


There's Thunder in Your Eyes

by Fancyfauns



Series: Thunder [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Drinking, Drug Use, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, How Do I Tag, Let's see how far this goes, My First Fanfic, Slow Burn, Smoking, Violence, also i suck at summaries, or maybe enemies is too strong a word?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-09-23 04:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17073464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancyfauns/pseuds/Fancyfauns
Summary: With her husband dead, baby missing, and life in ruins, Rosalie can only rely on herself to get her son back. She'll do whatever she needs to, even if it means becoming a General, rebuilding her old home, and getting the help of one infuriating but handsome ghoul.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo here's my story for my Sole Survivor, Rosalie! I don't have too much written yet, and I will apologize in advance for being somewhat infrequent with updates, but I figure if I don't share what I have then I'll probably just leave this fic gathering dust in my computer forever. I'm writing and sort of editing this myself, so sorry if it's a bit messy in some parts. Also please let me know if there's any tags I should add or remove, I'm not used to tagging stuff lol
> 
> Also I know it says enemies to friends to lovers, but I guess it's more of "very annoyed by each other" to friends to lovers lol anyway I hope you enjoy it!

_“Oh congrats my dear! What a beautiful little boy! What’s his name?” Mrs. Sumner cooed, leaning in uncomfortably close, trying to peel back the swaddling blanket. A tight smile spread on Rosalie’s face._

_“His name is Shaun,” she said, using the motion of the rocking chair to subtly move away from her overly-gracious neighbor. She had told Nate she didn’t want any visitors for a while, yet here she was, forcing herself to play host while holding her newborn. She silently begged for Nate to come shoo the neighbor away. The infant in her arms squirmed and started to fuss. “He’s been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately, I think it’s about time for his nap...” she said, trying to persuade her guest to leave in the most polite way she could at the moment._

_Mrs. Sumner nodded, as if she knew all of Rosalie’s new problems and struggles with a first child, as if was they were the easiest things in the world to fix. Smug bitch. “Oh yes, of course dear,” she said, straightening up and picking her pocket book up from the side table where she had laid it when she came in the house. “It’s very common for new mothers to have trouble putting their babies to rest. Just give him some warm milk and swaddle him tight, and he’ll be right off.” And with that unwarranted advice, Mrs. Sumner finally left to return to her own home._

_Rosalie sighed, thankful to finally be alone again. Well, almost alone. Shaun had stopped fussing, but kept squirming in her arms. She stood up from the rocker, her lower back aching a bit after being stuck in the hard chair for so long, and walked over to lay Shaun down in his crib. The dark halo of baby-curls framed his face, and a pair of big deep green eyes stared solemnly up at her. He really was a beautiful baby, like a miniature picture of Nate. The only thing Shaun seemed to get from his mother was his restlessness, always refusing to go to sleep without a fuss._

_It was going to be a long week; Nate was to return to duty in a few days, and Rosalie wanted to do as many things together as they could before he left. Go for a picnic, carve pumpkins, or go for a day trip somewhere. Before all that though, she had to catch up on housework while Shaun wasn't crying to be held. Rosalie turned around and began to tidy up the small office-turned-nursery, and bent down to pick up a wooden building block, when a small bug skittered by her foot. She jerked up, raised her foot and-_

  
The body of the large roach crunched beneath Rosalie’s boot, the insect’s legs give a last few twitches before it stilled. With a grimace she scraped the goo from the sole of her shoe, and pressed on. The vault was freezing, the air cold, stale, and unnervingly quiet. She rubbed her hands together, trying to get the cold out of her fingers, both of the wedding rings she slipped onto her fingers clinking together. Their rings; hers and Nate’s. She had taken his off after-

_No, don’t think about it,_ She thought, shoving the thoughts away.  _Just keep moving._

She had checked all of the pods, and all had been empty of life. Rosalie Morrison was all alone. Her husband, shot. Her son, stolen. Only she remained, and she made her way through Vault 111, rushing to find the surface, rushing to escape into the open air where she could feel the sun on her face. The giant insects didn’t pose too much of a threat; though alarming at first, Rosalie wasn’t one to shy away from small pests, even ones that had grew to the size of a small cat, and she quickly made her way to the vault door. The buttons didn’t seem to respond to her frantic mashing, or swearing. Taking a step back, she knocked over the arm of one of the skeletal remains of what had once been a Vault-Tec employee, along with a Pip-Boy. With a grimace, Rosalie picked up the Pip-Boy, shaking out the bones of the arm that had worn it. It fit snugly on her arm, and despite a thick layer of dust, appeared to be in working order. She plugged into the control board, opened the vault door, and made her way out of the large, quiet tomb.

After being down underground for- days, years?- the sun was hot and blinding, and the fresh air was both refreshing and made her lungs ache. Rosalie shielded her face from the burning light, giving her eyes taking a minute to adjust. When she looked out over the horizon, she let out a sharp breath at the change. The land and trees were scorched, not a single spot of green for miles, just the dead-brown color of the dead foliage. After a moment, she noticed something else; aside from the sound of her own pulse hammering away in her ears, she couldn't hear a single sound of life.

No birds, no crickets, nothing. It was the silence of a dead world.

Rosalie took a deep breath, and another, then turned to follow the path back home. She kept her eyes forward, treading carefully so as not to trip over any roots, rocks... or remains. The houses of Sanctuary Hills rose up on the small slope, and she turned onto the street, making her way back her and Na- her home. Just hers, now.

“As I live and breathe!”

Rosalie skid to a stop. It couldn’t be, was that...?

“Codsworth? You’re still here?” She was surprised, she hadn’t expected the Mr. Handy to still be there after... well, everything.

“Well of course I’m still here! Surely you don’t think a little radiation would deter the pride of General Atomics International?” The robot said stuffily, his eye-stalks moving about as if he was rolling them. Rosalie sighed. She was thankful that at least someone was left, even if it was the robot butler that Nate had insisted on getting to help take care of the house after Shaun's birth.

_Oh Shaun..._ Rosalie felt her heart constrict, knowing her baby was out there somewhere, all alone with some killer. She felt her eyes began to sting, but blinked back the tears before they could form.

“Mum?”

“Oh-! Sorry, Codsworth, I spaced out for a second, what did you say?”

The Mr. Handy hovered about, and made an audible huff of indignation. “I was wondering where Sir and Master Shaun were, after all the hub-bub I was afraid of the worst!”

Rosalie swallowed. “They’re... they’re gone. Someone stole Shaun, and Nate is... he’s dead.” Her voice was thick, and cracked on the last syllable. She pushed those feelings down, she had to move now, and if she let her self think about her loss she wouldn’t be able to move. “I have to find who did this. Did you see anyone come by recently?”

“No one but the usual pests and neighborhood dogs, I’m afraid.” Codsworth said apologetically, seeming to almost shrug. “I do believe there were some people left in Concord, though they didn’t seem the friendly sort. Pelted me with sticks last time, they did!”

Rosalie sighed, thankful that at least she wasn’t the only human left in this new post-blast world. She would have to look to see what was left in the house. Maybe Nate’s pistol was still in the lock-box under the bed, and there could even be some food left in the- “Codsworth, how long have I been gone?” she asked, suddenly realizing she may not have anything left that wasn’t expired... or scavenged by animals already.

“About 210 years, Mum,” the robot said matter-of-fact, as if commenting on the weather. “and terribly late for dinner, I may add!”

The world must have shifted suddenly beneath her feet, because Rosalie caught herself stumbling to the side, throwing a hand out to steady herself against the side of her ruined house. Had it really been two centuries? Two hundred years since her world was blasted into oblivion? Since her baby was stolen? Her stomach constricted painfully, as if about to release it’s contents, but found there was nothing to empty.

“Mum? Are you all right?” Codsworth asked, a metal arm reaching out to steady her. Rosalie's ears were beginning to ring loudly, and the robot sounded like he was at the end of a very long tunnel.

She slapped the help away, took a deep breath, then another, and stood as straight and tall as she could.

“Is there anything left in the house, Codsworth? Any food, weapons, something useful?” Rosalie asked, forcing her voice to be steady. She had to shut this all out, shut herself down. There was only one thing to focus on now, and she wouldn’t let herself fall apart so easily, not when she had to rescue her baby. She brushed past the Mr. Handy and went into the dilapidated house, starting to look through the kitchen first.

“I’ve managed to save a few items, Mum,” Codsworth said, his tone annoyingly helpful, if a bit more reserved. It was apparent that the house had been ransacked for supplies before- probably multiple times in 200 years- as there was very few items left. There was a pair of Cram cans in one of the top cupboards, and a bottle of water in one corner of the lower cabinets. Heading down the hall, she turned into the bedroom that she and Nate had shared. Before entering, she closed the door to the adjacent room, keeping her eyes away from the empty crib. The master bedroom seemed to be mostly untouched, seeing as how the locked box that Nate kept his .10mm in was still intact. Rosalie had hated guns, especially with a baby in the house, but now she had thanked how stubborn Nate had been about keeping it, and also showing her how to unload and reload it.

“Hey Codsworth, can you come see if you can get this box opened for me?” She called, sliding it toward the doorway. She went over to the dresser by the window and pulled open the drawers. There wasn’t much left that wasn’t completely moth-eaten, but she did find a thin black flannel shirt, and a shoulder bag that Nate had gotten in one of his military supply kits. There was also the small travel sewing kit her mother had given her- the metal heart-shaped case was tarnished, but still intact- and she slipped it into her bag along with the shirt. Codsworth had floated in and was sawing away at the case, tutting away at the dangers of firearms around infants, and managed to pop the case open, the pistol and a pack of ammo falling onto the floor. Rosalie picked it up, stuck both items in her bag, and moved on to the bathroom.

_“You’re going to knock ‘em dead at the Veteran’s Hall tonight, hon.”_

_“You think so?”_

_“Absolutely. Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror...”_

The bathroom wasn’t in too bad of shape, but there wasn’t much. The medicine cabinet door was cracked open, and there was a stimpak inside, along with some old bandages and a pair of small scissors. Rosalie closed the cabinet door, and ran her hand across the dusty mirrored surface. Despite being asleep for 200 years, her hazel eyes looked tired, and her lips were already getting chapped from thirst. Her dark brown hair was still in the bun she had put it in that last morning with Nate, though it had loosened and a few stray locks had come loose around her face.

Rosalie closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. She desperately wished for her favorite red lipstick. True, it was literally the end of the world now, and she was getting ready to go run off and fight God-knows-what to find her son, but having that red stain on her lips was like a piece of armor for her, able to give her the feeling of being able to take on the world, and that’s exactly what she was trying to prepare herself to do.

Sadly, it seemed that her cosmetics had been one of the first few items to be scavenged out of her home.

In a flash of anger she slammed the door mirror closed again, sending a series of cracks across the surface, and turned on her heel to leave the empty house. There was one room left, but she knew there wasn't anything that would help her in there, and she wasn’t ready to go in there just yet anyway.

Codsworth accompanied her around the neighborhood; she had despised her annoyingly-perfect suburb neighbors and never enjoyed visiting them, but it was deeply satisfying to go through their homes to take whatever she could find. By the end of her scavenging, she had found three more stimpaks, four more water bottles, two boxes of Blamco Mac n’ Cheese, another can of Cram, and a pair of worn pants that miraculously fit, though she did have to tighten them a bit with a belt she had found. She dug the flannel shirt out of her bag and slipped the less-conspicuous clothes she had found on over her vault suit, the blue color peeking out of the small moth holes in the fabric. She would blend in a lot better now, nothing said “Hey! Shoot me!” like a bright blue suit. Once she was changed, she knelt down and tightened the laces on the sturdy pair of boots she had found in one of her neighbor's homes. They were a little big for her, but with the laces tightened enough it wouldn't be too much of a problem.

Rosalie stood, shouldering the now-heavier pack onto her shoulder, and stood quietly for a moment in the empty house. Her thoughts were running a million miles an hour, a background stream of constant anxiety, but sometimes she could completely shut it out and focus on the moment. Like now, she had the keen sense of just how small and alone she was in this new world, and how she wasn't even sure of where to start looking for Shaun. Outside, dead leaves rustled in the soft breeze, and the late afternoon sun cast a golden light through the broken windows. Bits of dust swirled and floated aimlessly in the beams of sunlight, and Rosalie struggled not to feel like she was floating away herself. It was a terrible time to be so hyper-focused, but the sensation was quickly brushed aside. “I’m going back hom- back to the house.” she muttered, walking briskly out the door and back down the street, not bothering to pause and see if Codsworth had actually heard her.

As badly as she wanted to curl up on the old, dirty mattress and black out for a few hours, Rosalie did one last sweep of the house to make sure whatever belongings that were left were secure, and started off towards Concord. It was still bright outside, and the walk should only take a few short hours, long enough to get there and find these people Codsworth had mentioned. She was already coming up on the old Red Rocket by the neighborhood, the red spaceship rusted and pitted, but still perched up on the roof.

A movement caught Rosalie’s eye, and she froze, carefully moving her hand towards her pistol.

A dog- a Shepherd, it looked like- was sniffing around the dilapidated gas station, and stopped when it had heard her approaching. It’s ear were perked, and tail wagging as it trotted over to where she stood, tongue lolling out of it’s mouth.

“Hey boy, where did you come from?” Rosalie spoke softly to the dog, moving her hand away from her weapon, but still close. She wasn’t about to let a case of rabies stop her before she even got started, though this pooch did seem to be pretty healthy. There wasn’t any foaming at the mouth, at least. “What’s your name, boy? You have any owners?” The dog gave a friendly bark in reply, his tail still wagging.

Rosalie wasn’t too keen on having another mouth to feed- especially since the local super markets were surely empty- but having a set of sharp teeth and good hearing would be a boon. She held her hand out for the dog to sniff, then pulled one of her cans of Cram out of her pack and popped it open for her new friend. “If you come along and help me out, boy, there’s more where this came from. Deal?” The dog paused from it’s eating to stare at Rosalie, gave a bark, then finished the small meal.

Well, talking to a dog had to be better than talking to herself, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well my computer decided to crash and wipe the two chapters I already had written, but I guess that's okay because I wasn't really satisfied with them anyway (: always save backups!!

“Well, so much for sweet talkin’ our way out, eh buddy?” Rosalie looked across the open doorway at the German Shepherd that had been tagging along with her, as the both took cover from the hail of gunfire. They hadn’t made it very far into Concord when they found some groups of people in the middle of a gun fight. She had decided to side with the group that didn’t start shooting right at her, and now she was inside the Museum of Freedom, pinned down and trying to find a way out of this mess. Before running inside, she had grabbed a laser musket that had been dropped by one of the fallen soldiers outside, and though it wasn’t the most accurate weapon it did the job well enough. Inside, she had counted about six of these thugs- “Raiders”, the guy on the balcony called them. With four already taken out, there wasn’t too many more to take down, but Rosalie still wasn’t the best shot so she had to be careful.

As soon as there was a pause in the gunfire, she ran through the doorway, firing the charged musket at the Raider, getting as close as she could while there was still an opening. The beam shot right into the man’s chest, causing him to stumble back, dropping the pipe gun in his hand. “Agh! _You motherf-!_ ” the words were cut short as Rosalie tackled him, pulling the combat knife she had picked up from another fallen Raider into this one’s neck, wrestling to end this quickly. After a minute, his struggling stopped, but she didn’t have time to catch her breath.

_“You bitch!”_

More gunfire, this time from the balcony across from her. She leaped forward and scrambled for cover, but caught a bullet in her leg. As she fumbled for a stimpak, the dog bolted past her, and she heard a scream before the gunshots went silent again. “Good boy!” She called, as she took care of the bullet wound in her leg. Her stomach flipped at the sight of a needle, but she didn’t exactly have the luxury of being squeamish anymore.

With the building now cleared, she finally made her way to the group of trapped settlers, and finding her furry companion sitting by the feet of one of them, happily panting away, his muzzle wet and pink with blood.

“I must say, you have impeccable timing. You really saved us, thank you.” A man in a militia hat spoke, holding one of those laser rifles. “My name is Preston Garvey, I’m part of the Commonwealth Minutemen.”

_Uh, what?_ “Minutemen? So now I’m traveling back in time?”

Preston gave her a confused look. “What do you mean? Look, we’re still not out of the clear yet. There’s more raiders outside, and we need to get somewhere safe. If you help us get out of here, then maybe we can help you too. What brought you out here?”

“I... My name is Rosalie, Rosalie Morrison. I’m looking for my son, Shaun.” her grip on her gun tightened, voice becoming hard and even. “Someone stole him, and killed my husband while doing it. My baby isn’t even a year old yet.” That white-hot anger had been fueling ever since she had stepped out of that forsaken Vault, and she made sure to keep that fire stoked. “I need help finding the man responsible.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. It’s a hard thing, losing a child and a spouse.” Preston said, his voice soft. “After we get out of here, I’ll help you however I can. First we need to get out of here though. Luckily, Sturges here has a plan.” He nodded his head towards the man who had been typing away on the nearby computer, mumbling at cursing at the machine. Hearing his name, the man- Sturges- turned towards the Vault Dweller and smiled. He was wearing a pair of overalls with grease stains, and his black hair was styled into an oddly perfect pompadour. Rosalie made a note in the back of her mind to ask him what on ear he used for hair product.

“Hey there darlin’, so here’s what we got: up on the top of this building is a crashed Vertibird, and a rather fine piece of power armor to boot. Only problem, it’s got no juice.” Sturges gestured animatedly as he explained, “What we need is a Fusion Core, and luckily there’s one here in the museum. Bad news, it’s locked tight behind a security gate, and it’s been a absolute bitch tryin’ to crack that code to open the door. Think you could give it a shot?”

Rosalie sighed, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, I’ll try. I’m not too tech savvy, but I’ll see what I can do. What happens if we get the power armor working?”

“The vertibird is equipped with a minigun,” Preston chimed in, “with that power armor, you could just rip it off, then we can take care of those raiders, no sweat.”

She threw up her hands, “Wait wait _wait,_ so not only do I have to figure out how to get this metal suit up and running, I have to _pilot it too?_ Why me?”

“Well, if you don’t wanna have all the fun...” Sturges said, trying to sound like he’d rather be the one gunning down raiders with a giant machine gun, but his tone conveyed the opposite. Preston stepped forward. “Look, if you don’t want to do it, I understand. But it’s perfectly safe, and I’ll be covering you from the balcony. With that minigun we’ll have this place cleared in no time, then we can move on to somewhere safe, and help you find your boy.”

_Great, I’ll just save everyone’s asses while I’m at it._ “Fine, I’ll do it. Let me go take a look at that terminal.”

It only took about half an hour and four lock-outs before Rosalie managed to get the security gate opened, and made her way back to the group. The dog was still sitting by the old woman, who looked up and smiled as Rosalie came in. “You're not what I expected Dogmeat would find in that little neighborhood. But oh, so much better” she said, her voice a rattle.

“’Dogmeat?’ Is he yours?”

“Oh he ain't my dog. No sir. Dogmeat, he's what you'd call his own man.”

Dogmeat barked in agreement, his tail wagging.

The woman reached out and grabbed Rosalies hand, giving her a meaningful look. “You should know, there’s something coming, something drawn by the noise. I’ve seen it. It’s big, and... _angry.”_

“What? Like you had a _vision_ or something?”

The woman released her hand, and smiled. “Oh, I know what you're thinkin'. This old lady, she's out of her mind. But it's the chems. They give ole Mama Murphy the "Sight." Just be careful out there.”

“Um, sure. Will do...” First Minutemen, now psychics. What was next? _Dragons?_

 

* * *

 

 

Okay, so, maybe ‘dragons’ wasn’t too far off the mark.

The giant lizard creature had burst out of the ground at the end of the street, and was slicing through raiders like tissue paper. Rosalie was frozen, her knees shaking and mouth suddenly dry.

_Move! Shoot! Do something!!_ She was trying to move her limbs, watching as the creature turned it’s sights to her. The ground shook as it barreled towards her, roaring, and time seemed to slow.

Rosalie hoisted the minigun up towards the monster, firing bullets that shot out wildly and seemed to bounce right off the creature’s hide. It knocked her onto her back, and if it wasn’t for the power armor she’d be dead already. Now, she just felt like a can of Cram waiting to be cracked open.

The voices of the others yelling from the balcony sounded so far away, and her heartbeat was deafening in her ears. The only sound that was coming through was the monster’s roaring as it tried to pry her out of the armor. Laser-fire pinged off of the giant lizard’s head, and it paused in it’s attack long enough to see where the other fire was coming from.

Just enough of an opening for Rosalie to reach out and grab a hold of a nearby musket, a long blade affixed to the end of the barrel.

Though the majority of scales covering the monster seemed thick and bulletproof, the softer underbelly gave easily to the sharp blade. It took all her strength to pull the musket’s end up along the creature’s belly, but it gave easily, spilling blood and gore onto her as the monster collapsed with one last surprised roar.

Her heartbeat was still rushing loudly in her ears, so much so that Rosalie couldn’t even hear when the others came and pulled the great creature off of her, and helped her out of the power armor. She scrambled out, coughing and frantically wiping the hot blood off of her, her breathing fast and shallow and making her dizzy. Preston was next to her instantly.

“Rosalie! Rose, you alright-?” she slapped the man’s hand away as he tried to help her up. She stood there a minute, hands on her knees as she tried to keep herself from passing out.

“I- I’m _fine_ I just- I just need a minute.” her breathing was starting to slow, but her words still came out as more of a gasp. At least the rushing in her ears was dying down, and the ground wasn’t threatening to flip her sideways anymore. “That... _what the fuck was that?!”_

“A Deathclaw, and a nasty one at that. They’re big, mean, and deadly.” Sturges said, holding out a small bottle of clear fluid. Rosalie wasn’t sure if it was water or vodka, but either would be great.

She took the bottle and downed it in four gulps. Water. Too bad.

“Alright, well, I held up my end. Now?” She gave a hard look- okay, glared- at Preston and Sturges, who couldn’t help but look a bit uncomfortable. Preston shifted from one foot to the other.

“Now we move on. Mama Murphy has uh... seen a new place for a settlement, not too far away from here. It’s up north a ways, a place called Sanctuary.”

“Great, one step forward, two steps back.” Rosalie muttered, furiously wiping her hands on the end of her shirt. She’d have to find something not soaked in Deathclaw blood now. At least she could stop by her house and restock any supplies she needed, and maybe find a change of clothes. She straightened up and clapped her hands together. “Alright then, let’s get going. The sooner we get there, the sooner I can leave.”

 

The trek back to Sanctuary was longer with a group that with just a dog, so when they reached the dilapidated neighborhood it was already well into the night. Rosalie checked the time on her Pip-Boy, and sighed. It was already half-past midnight. Looks like she’d be staying the night again, but at least she’d be well rested. When they had reached the neighborhood, the group of settlers had set themselves up in the house across from Rosalie’s, and Sturges had cooked up some kind of meal with a meat that Rosalie wasn’t quite able to identify.

Whatever it was, it tasted amazing.

She, Preston, and Dogmeat were seated outside under the driveway awning, while Marcy, Jun, and Mama Murphy had gone inside. Sturges had taken his serving of mystery meat stew and went off to go tinker with something, the sound of a hammer coming from a few houses down.

Preston had been telling her about Diamond City, and that someone there might be able to help her find her son. “It’s south-east from here, across the river.” he was saying, pausing to take a bite of food. “The roads should be safe enough, but always be on the lookout for raiders, or ghouls.”

“Ghouls? What are ghouls?”

He gave a half-hearted laugh. “Wow, you really aren’t from around here. Ghouls are people who have been... effected by the radiation. There are a lot who are just like you and me- regular people, but the ones I’m talking about are different. Their minds have been, rotted, by the radiation. They’re feral, and will pretty much attack on site.”

Rosalie took another bite of food, chewing as she thought about how much harder this was going to be than she thought. She had lived in this area most of her life, but ever since the bombs fell, everything was so different. It was a whole new world, and she didn’t feel like a part of it at all. She swallowed the tough piece of meat, and set aside her plate so Dogmeat could have the rest. “Thanks for the help, Preston. I appreciate it.” Rosalie said, then got up to her feet. “I’m gonna go ahead and turn in. I’ll stop by in the morning before I head out.”

Preston nodded, and gave a small wave. “Sure thing, you get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That night, Rosalie kept dreaming about being eaten by dragons. Each time she woke up, Dogmeat was curled up on the bed with her, and licked her hand til she fell back asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaahhhhh thank you for all the kudos and comments so far!!!! I've been trying to take screenshots that go along with the story (since I finally got all my mods working lol) and I post them on my tumber @fancyfauns, as well as stuff like aesthetic boards and the fanfic playlist i made

 

Turns out, getting out and finding your kidnapped son in a post-nuclear wasteland is a lot harder than it sounds. 

 

In the morning when Rosalie had gotten up, the sun was just starting to rise, and the air was slowly warming as she got dressed and made a quick breakfast of some Fancy Lad snack cakes and a can of cram. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the two-hundred-year-old food, but her stomach was doing flips and it was hard to keep the creeping nausea at the edge of her focus. While she waited for her stomach to settle, she decided to check in with Preston and the others to see if they needed any help. 

 

What was intended to take an hour or two, ended up lasting a few days.

 

Rosalie had helped Sturges get a water purifier running, Marcy and Jun needed help clearing an area for food, planting something called a “mutfruit”, and Mama Murphy wanted a chair, specially made for her. At least she had gotten some target practice in, with Preston giving her help on aiming and gun maintenance. Back before, Nate had shown her enough to make sure she could defend herself if needed, and they had even gone hunting once, though Rosalie ended up spending the whole time complaining of being out in the cold waiting for deer that didn’t show up. 

 

When she wasn’t building or planting or practice shooting, Rosalie took Dogmeat and went scavenging around the local area, mostly in the nearby gas station and the outer buildings of Concord. The old Red Rocket wasn’t in too bad of shape, thankfully, and it had some pretty good stuff still inside. She was there now, stopping by to stock up on some supplies she had stashed there. 

 

Sure, there was some things at home she was keeping just in case, but she figured it was better to keep little caches scattered around. Sometimes it was good to be a little bit paranoid. 

 

There was some workbench areas where she was able to tinker around, and she made a mental note to have Sturges show her if there were any modifications she could make to her gun. He had already made a nifty little holster for her pistol, which she now kept strapped to her right thigh. She was real handy with a needle and thread, having done sewing work on the side for some extra money, but helping rebuild the whole world was another-

 

“ _ Shit! Ouchouchouch! _ ” Rosalie swore as the hammer she was using came down on her thumb. She hopped from foot to foot and shook her hand, letting loose a stream of curses under her breath. Dogmeat appeared around the corner, giving a soft whine. “I’m fine boy, just-  _ fuck _ , I’m fine.” the woman muttered, tossing the hammer to the ground. The hole she was patching up in the back wall wasn’t quite finished, but it was done enough. If she had to pick that hammer up again, it would be for a demolition, not repairs.

 

They had been at it all day, ‘they’ being Rosalie, Sturges, and Preston, doing enough repairs and planting and supplying to make Sanctuary and the Red Rocket habitable enough for others. So far three more people joined their little group; one middle-aged woman and two younger men, who had been traveling with a trader who called herself Trashcan Carla. Odd nickname, but she had good stuff. The three people decided to stay, and had set themselves up in one of the still standing houses on the cul-de-sac.

 

Rosalie had gone to a birthday party there, once upon a time.

 

She rubbed at the back of her neck, and sighed. Outside, the sun was still pretty high in the sky, and a few wispy clouds drifted by. According to her Pip-Boy, it was only a couple hours past noon. 

 

She headed around and inside the small gas station, into the small room that was once the office. Now, it had been cleared out, save for the terminal, and a small bed and trunk had been brought in. Rosalie had found a blank holotape and had been keeping notes on it, as well as a few short entries of, well, whatever she had felt like writing. ‘Diary’ seemed a childing term, but it helped keep her mind clear to get her anxious thoughts out of her head and into something else. Rosalie opened the trunk and got out the bag she had put inside while she was working, and did another check to make sure she had everything she needed to set out. Waiting time was over, she was itching to get out of here.

 

“You going now, Rosa?” Preston had come in, brushing dirt off of his hands and wiping his brow. He had been getting friendlier, much to Rosalie’s embarrassment. She pulled the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder, and fidgeted with the holster on her thigh.

 

“Yup.” 

 

“Sun will be going down in a few hours, do you have plenty of provisions for the road?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Taking any back up?”

 

She nodded towards Dogmeat, who was sitting nearby, wagging his tail.

 

“Are you sure you-”

 

“Preston,  _ please _ ,” Rosalie snapped, trying to push past the Minuteman as politely as possible. “I got bullets, stimpaks, food, water, everything. What I _ don’t _ have a lot of is time.” her boots stomped out from the burned linoleum to the dirt outside, towards the road. “I’ve wasted enough time here playing house. Thank you for the shooting lessons- really- but if I waste another day here while my baby is out there, I’m going to go nuts.”

 

She stopped to look back at Preston, who had followed her out. His expression was politely passive, but Rosalie was perceptive enough to see the small details that showed he was just a little hurt. It caused just the smallest stab of guilt in her chest, and she felt her face burn.

 

“I’m sorry, I just can’t wait around anymore.” she muttered, picking absently at the hem of her sleeve. “I’ll make it to Diamond City, and see if I can send a letter or something letting you know I got there safely.”

 

His footsteps came closer, and the young man clapped a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, I understand. Thank you for helping us out here, it really means a lot to all of us.” Rosalie felt her eyes prickle a bit, a blamed the dry dusty air. “I’ll hold down the fort here, you go find your boy.”

 

_ Well, shit.  _ It was hard to be cold to someone so nice. “Thanks, Preston. I’ll see you later.” With that, Rosalie shrugged off the man’s hand, whistled for her canine companion, and set out towards Diamond City.

 

\--------

 

The two of them had made it pretty far on their trek, and while they were close to Diamond City, it had gotten very dark out and started to rain, so Rosalie and Dogmeat had taken shelter in a church they had come across. It took a bit of pushing on the door to get it open- there was a pile of rubble on the other side, Rosalie noted when she got inside- but it would be a lot safer than being outside in the dark. From her vague recollection, they were almost there, but there were also more places to hide, and the rain made it harder to hear and see if there was anyone else out there.

 

The door creaked loudly as it was shut, and then there was just the sound of the rain outside, and Dogmeat as he sniffed around the-

 

The dog started barking, growling towards a dark corner of the sanctuary, his hackles raising.

 

“What is it boy?” Rosalie whispered, immediately grabbing her pistol. She fumbled for the light on her Pip-Boy, her eyes straining to make out the dark splotches in front of her. It flashed on and she saw a… person?

 

“Hey, are you okay…?” she took a step forward, and the person turned around.

 

Their skin looked raw and burned, eyes unfocused and mouth agape. Rosalie froze, her body seizing up in a panic. The thing- a ghoul, right?- growled, and scrambled in her direction, launching itself at her. Dogmeat bolted forward as well, and grabbed onto the creature’s leg, wrestling it to the ground.

 

Rosalie snapped back to herself, and aimed her gun at the ghoul. Two shots took it down, and she could hear shuffling coming from the pulpit behind her. She turned, as two more emerged, one still shuffling around like it was lost, and the other coming towards her, tripping down off the short platform. 

 

Dogmeat went for the one still up on stage, and the Vault Dweller was left with the other one. It was standing now, and coming right at her. She stumbled backwards, tripping over the fallen debris that had been blocking the entrance, and she fell onto her back with a hard thud. Her head was spinning now, but jerked her gun out in front of her and fired at the monster.

 

_ Pop pop pop! _

 

The ghoul crumpled and fell to the side,twitching before it went still. 

 

While she took a moment to stop her shaking, Rosalie absently realized that she had come to this same church a few times before, but the name of it escaped her. 

 

The German Shepherd trotted over to her, sniffing and nudging her with his wet nose. Rosalie pushed herself up off the ground. “I’m okay boy, I’m fine.” her voice sounded as shaky as her knees, but at least she was standing. Preston told her about ghouls, but she wasn’t expecting anything so…  _ savage _ , not to mention lethal. She looked down at her hand, stretching her fingers out with her palm facing up, and counted.

 

Three minutes passed before the trembling stopped.

 

After doing another quick sweep of the church to make sure there weren’t any other surprises waiting for them, Rosalie and Dogmeat made their way up to the loft up in the top of the church. There was a few folding chairs and crates, and she pushed them over to block the stairs, just in case. Someone else must have taken shelter there before them, because there was a sleeping bag, and some empty Nuka Cola bottles, and a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Rosalie checked the pack, shaking it out over her hand. Two usable smokes fell out onto her palm. Well, at least tonight wasn’t a total bust.

 

Taking her armor off and setting it aside- from Carla, who traded it for some food that wasn’t from a can and some ammo- Rosalie stretched out on the ratty old sleeping bag, her back and feet aching. In the ceiling above them, a small hole in the ceiling showed the deep blue-black sky, with a few stars peeking through. She lit one of the cigarettes, and took a slow drag off of it. During law school, Rosalie could go through a pack a day, especially during those rough study sessions, and Nate had worked so hard to get her to quit. 

 

“Sorry Nate…”

 

Dogmeat trotted over and curled up beside her, laying his head over her knees. Rosalie reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears, and pet his soft fur as she finished the cigarette, then went ahead and lit the second, and finished that one too.

 

Tomorrow they’d make it to Diamond City, and see if they could find someone to help find Shaun. This world wasn’t any place for a baby.

 

Rosalie wasn’t even sure if it was meant for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if it felt a little short! it's gonna be a busy week, but hopefully i'll have more soon! xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> a bit of a slow start, but hey at least i'm posting stuff lol


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